Defenseless
by Ricechex
Summary: Set during A Hole In The World SpikeAngel inner monologues during their moments in that show. Hopefully better than it sounds. Review?
1. Part One: Angel

**Defenseless**

_First Person POV: Angel_

I hate him.

"It's bollocks, Angel! It's your brand of bollocks, from first to last."

Watching him strut through my office, shouting at me, I hate him even more.

"No, you can't ever see the big picture. You can't see any picture!"

"I am talking about something primal! Right? Savagery. Brutal, animal instinct."

God, get out of my office already. I'm tired of arguing.

"And that wins out every time with you." I'm just so damn tired. "You know, the human race has _evolved_, Spike!"

I walk away, but it does no good. He follows me anyway. Constantly on my heels and forever in my mind.

"Oh, into a bunch of namby-pamby, self-analyzing _wankers_ who could never hope to – "

"We're bigger. We're smarter." Which doesn't explain my complete lack of intellect when it comes to him. "Plus, there's a thing called teamwork, not to mention the superstitious terror of your 'pure aggressors!'"

Why am I still arguing with him? Why haven't I thrown him out of here yet?

"You just want it to be the way you want it to be."

Yes, yes I do. Which is why I _haven't_ thrown him out.

"It's not about what I want!"

He's so close to me, oh Christ, I want him…

"Sorry." I turn to see Wesley has entered my office. Thank whatever higher powers sent him in right this moment. "Is this something we should all be discussing?"

"No." I'm embarrassed – not because Wesley caught us shouting. That happens a lot. It's not a daily routine – it's an hourly routine. One I wouldn't trade for anything, as long as it gives me the chance to be with him. No, I'm embarrassed because if Wesley _hadn't_ walked in when he did, everyone near my office would have gotten a little show…

"It just… sounds a little serious."

"It was mostly…" Sexual tension? Lack of sleep? Too many nights filled with dreams of Spike's lean, firm body? "Theoretical. We…" Need to shag like adolescent bunnies?

"We were just working out a b- " A bit of frustration? God, how right he is. Just tell Wesley the truth. We were arguing over – "Look, if cavemen and astronauts got into a fight, who would win?"

He crossed his arms. He's staring Wesley down. I can't look at them – can't look at _him_. Because when he stares so intently at something, _someone_, all I can do is wish he was staring at me. I wish he would notice how _I_ look at _him_.

"Ah." Wesley seems skeptical. Which is actually pretty normal for Wesley. He analyzes everything for hidden meanings – but I have kept my secret well. Although sometimes I do wonder if he's seen through all my masquerades and realized why I argue so ferociously with my grandchild. "You've been yelling at each other for forty minutes about this?"

And I'd do it all over again just to spend another forty minutes in his presence.

"Do the astronauts have weapons?"

"No." Just like those astronauts, I am left defenseless against the savage aggression of my feelings for him.

God, how I hate him.

* * *

I can't believe I'm doing this.

But it's for the best, really. I've almost convinced myself of that. This is the only way I can survive – I may not like it, but I'll deal with the feelings and the self loathing that come along with hard decisions. I always do.

"Harmony just pulled me out of a very promising poker game down in Accounts Receivable, so this better be good." Good? With the view I'm getting as you're draping your leg over the arm of that chair, nothing in the world can be wrong. "Oh, and by the way, all the guys down there agree that astronauts don't stand a chance against cavemen, so don't even start."

Right. Here goes nothing. "Look, I can't do this anymore." The room is spinning. I need support. I can't do this…

"Admitting defeat, are you?" He's smirking. I hate that. I want to grab him and wipe that expression off… I can't lie; I really just want to touch his face…

"You and me." Like there ever _was_ a _you and me_. "This isn't working out." I'm really doing this, aren't I?

He looks mockingly hurt. "Are you saying we should start annoying other people?"

"I'm saying you should go." I DON'T MEAN THAT! NO! STAY! PLEASE! You can annoy me all you want! You can do anything, just please don't leave me…

"You really can't stand the competition, can you?"

"That isn't the – " OK… Calm down. I had a speech worked out. It's the only damn thing I've done all day besides argue with him. Stick to the plan – just say your piece. "The way I figure it, Lindsey brought you back as a spirit bound to this place so you'd become – " The only fucking thing I think about. " – Invested in it. He only made you corporeal again once you'd gotten used to it, attached to it." Like I'm so desperately attached to him.

"I'm not attached." God how I wish he was. "I just don't have anywhere else to go." So why am I sending him away?

"What if you did?" I hate him. "Look, Wolfram & Hart has got offices in every major city in the world – and a lot more out of it." I hate this place. "I'll give you the resources you need to go anywhere: cars, gadgets, expense accounts. You fight the good fight, but… in style." I hate myself. "And if possible, in outer Mongolia."

Someone stop me, please?

"A roving agent." He's considering it. He really wants to go. "Sort of a 007 without the poncy tux." He'd look amazing in a tux. "Go anywhere I want?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." I don't want him anywhere but here…

"Hmm. Anywhere but here…"

I can't believe I did that…

* * *

Right now, I have one comforting thought – the blonde vampire sitting across the aisle. He is the only thing keeping me from squeezing my eyes shut as tight as they'll go until I cry.

"I've never flown before." He looks just as nervous as I feel. God, how inappropriate – all I can think of is how we're sharing a virginal experience – flying in a plane together. I'm just a sick, sick vampire.

"I've been in a helicopter. They don't… go this high." I want him to hold me, sooth me, lie and tell me he loves me. I've never been so terrified, and most of it has nothing to do with the plane ride. Or the fact that Fred is dying.

"Back to the mother country." He seems to be relaxing a bit. We've been in the air for almost an hour – just the two of us back here. Temptations abound. "Hey, after we save Fred, we should hit the West End, take in a show."

Me? Him? A darkened theatre? Oh, the possibilities… "I've never seen Les Mis."

"Trust me, half way through the first act, you'll be drinking humans again." Only if I'm actually paying attention to the stage…

Damn it! Get on track! Start thinking with the head on your shoulders! He's never gonna see you the way you want him to! And more importantly, Fred is dying. You have to concentrate on saving her…

"Can't lose her, Spike." I lose too many people.

"We won't." He's so confident. I love his confidence – it is such a turn on. Took him a while to find it, but once he did…

Focus Angel. Just focus. "I lost Cordy."

I need my comforting thought back…


	2. Part Two: Spike

**Defenseless**

_First Person POV: Spike_

He thinks he's so fucking smart, the idiot.

"It's bollocks, Angel! It's your brand of bollocks, from first to last."

Won't even look at me while I try to prove him wrong – the big poof has had his back to me throughout most of this argument.

"No, you can't ever see the big picture. You can't see any picture!"

And he can't see what's his for the taking, the blind, stupid git.

"I am talking about something primal! Right? Savagery. Brutal, animal instinct."

"And that wins out every time with you. You know, the human race has _evolved_, Spike!"

He's walking away from me – as usual. But I won't let him get out of this so easily.

"Oh, into a bunch of namby-pamby, self-analyzing _wankers_ who could never hope to overcome pure aggressors!"

Fucking ponce. God, how I hate this man.

" - plus, there's a thing called teamwork, not to mention the superstitious terror of your 'pure aggressors!'"

I'll show him pure aggressor… just give me a chance…

"You just want it to be the way you want it to be."

"It's not about what I want!"

It is always about what he wants, never about what I want… and this could be my chance…

"Sorry." Wesley – bleedin' Christ, somebody shoot him for walkin' in here now. "Is this something we should all be discussing?"

"No." And the clot behind me sounds embarrassed – good. I can't bring myself to look back at him – I really do want him to believe that I'm angry with him. So I focus on Wesley, who I am angry at. But _he_ doesn't know it. And he will probably never know why.

"It just… sounds a little serious."

"It was mostly…" Come on, _Angel_, tell the nice man what it was so he can bloody well leave. "Theoretical. We…"

"We were just working out a b- " Bloody hell, I'm just gonna say it already. Not like we were getting into anything personal. God forbid anyone ever found out what I was thinking about while we were arguing. "Look, if cavemen and astronauts got into a fight, who would win?"

I know he's uncomfortable, leaning against the table behind me. Makes me feel a bit better – knowing I unnerve him. At times, I'll sit in the bathroom just thinking about him – lock myself in a stall and just think for what feels like hours. He consumes my thoughts and upsets me – and I hate him for it.

"Ah." Typical Wesley – man of many words, he is. "You've been yelling at each other for forty minutes about this?"

Yeah, we have… And I know I'm a loony for enjoying hearin' him shout at me. But… it's Angel. I'd do anything to spend so much time with him – even let him shout at me.

"Do the astronauts have weapons?"

"No." But they would if he asked me once – just once. I'd give him anything – I'd admit defeat in all our arguments, lay down my life and my soul if he needed them. I'd leave myself defenseless while he beat his frustrations out of me.

Now who's the idiot?

* * *

Bloody hell.

I get no peace in this damned place. I wander off for a while to settle down, you know, find a place to have a decent wank and get it out of my system, blow off some steam. Because that's all I do around him – build up steam and pressure until it's all too much to take, and I either have to kill something or wank off. And now, I'm following 'the littlest vampire' back up to ground zero. Someone stop me, I can't go in there.

"Harmony just pulled me out of a very promising poker game down in Accounts Receivable, so this better be good." I step onto and over his furniture, trying to remind myself that despite the sudden loss of blood to my brain I am not happy to see him. "Oh, and by the way, all the guys down there agree that astronauts don't stand a chance against cavemen, so don't even start."

Might as well get comfortable, he'll probably want another long, petty argument. Christ, I'll never make it out of this place with any semblance of sanity.

"Look, I can't do this anymore."

"Admitting defeat, are you?" Bastard. You just don't want to admit you lost the argument.

"You and me. This isn't working out."

"Are you saying we should start annoying other people?" Because I'll stop annoying him if that's really what he wants. He says the word; I'll be his whipping boy.

"I'm saying you should go."

"You really can't stand the competition, can you?" If he says yes, I'll die again. I'm not competition to him – no matter what happened back with the fake cup we raced to drink out of, I'm no match for him and I never will be.

"That isn't the – " Oh, he does consider me competition, eh? Good, I think. I may be a bit starkers for it, but I will always enjoy seein' him unsettled. "The way I figure it, Lindsey brought you back as a spirit bound to this place so you'd become – " Mad as a March Hare? " – Invested in it. He only made you corporeal again once you'd gotten used to it, attached to it." Christ, he knows I've bonded with the place.

"I'm not attached." Yes I am, and I'm bloody pathetic. "I just don't have anywhere else to go." Because this is where he is, and I don't want to be where he _isn't_.

"What if you did?" What? "Look, Wolfram & Hart has got offices in every major city in the world – and a lot more out of it." Bloody hell no, I'm not leaving. "I'll give you the resources you need to go anywhere: cars, gadgets, expense accounts. You fight the good fight, but… in style." Please don't send me away. "And if possible, in outer Mongolia."

He really wants me gone, I suppose. It's always about what he wants…

"A roving agent." He looks torn in two right now. Not noticeable to anyone who hasn't known him for at least a century. But I know that look. "Sort of a 007 without the poncy tux." He can't hide it from me – he doesn't really want me to go. "Go anywhere I want?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." But I want to stay here!

"Hmm. Anywhere but here…"

And I really would leave, if he looked me right in the eyes and told me flat out that he wanted me gone – if he could say it and mean it, I'd leave in a heartbeat, just to make him happy.

Bloody hell, but I'm whipped.

* * *

What the hell is happening?

"I've never flown before." It's bloody unnatural for me to look out a window and see sunlight – but I'm growing accustomed to that at Wolfram & Hart – so kind of them to have necro-tempered windows really. But to look out a window and see not only sunlight, but clouds _below_ me, proves that I am definitely not the same vamp I was one year ago.

"I've been in a helicopter. They don't… go this high." He's terrified. His fear is coming off him in waves. Course, I know it's rolling off me as well, so I don't give him hell. For once. In this small a space, there's too much that could go wrong. Too much that I could lose if I lost me temper.

"Back to the mother country." I'm trying to relax – it's getting easier as time goes by. "Hey, after we save Fred, we should hit the West End, take in a show."

"I've never seen Les Mis." Leave it to him to think of _that_ show.

"Trust me, half way through the first act, you'll be drinking humans again." Unless I finally admit my thoughts of you… and this is some alternate dimension where you would return my feelings.

Wait, why in hell am I thinking about _him_ right now? There are more important things to do! Save Fred! And… save Fred! And… oh, bugger.

"Can't lose her, Spike." And he thinks I needed to be reminded of that?

"We won't." We can't lose her, _I_ can't lose her – she's the only one who hasn't judged me in all the time I've been here. She has to get better. Who else could I talk to about how I feel… for him… She's the only one who'll ever understand…

"I lost Cordy."

Why the hell is this happening now?


End file.
